


A Shot in the Dark

by MultiVoiceEdit, TheNameIsREX



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Other, serial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiVoiceEdit/pseuds/MultiVoiceEdit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNameIsREX/pseuds/TheNameIsREX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One detective's experience in the town of Silent Hill. The only established character in this work is the enigmatic town itself. </p>
<p>Walter Kelly finds himself lost in the fog while investigating a string of murders from the nearby tourist town of Silent Hill, Maine. The officer must face his darkest fears all the while keeping his addiction in check.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shot in the Dark

   Walter opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling of his moldy motel room. The air was thick with mist, and chilled like wine. Loud static from the television brought him back to reality, but the pain should have been able to do that. The hangover would have been enough, but it was his right cheek that delivered his discomfort. One searing red strip of pain from the night before.

   A lazy arm reached out for a fifth of rum placed on the nightstand. Perhaps a swig will dull the pain; the whole bottle will make it disappear. The swallow of rum offered contentment. He slowly lifted his body from the bed in order to go to the bathroom. His hand flicked off the TV as he passed. With fifth in hand he took another swig before stopping at the sink. The cracked mirror offered insight into his injury. A burn mark that trailed across the right side of his face. He'd seen this before, but where?

   Walter ran a hand through his jet black hair to attempt a style. Nothing doing, it just fell back into place. It may have been short, but it still looked like he had been rolling around on the ground. He didn't have time for this. Another girl could become a victim tonight. He straightened up his shirt and pants. No stains thankfully. He could hear the rain outside, and decided he should wear his leather coat for this trip around town.

   Spring brought heavy downpours to this Maine vacation spot. The ride in was disorienting, but this was somehow worse. Blinding fog and merciless pelts of water from above. _What was my aversion to cars again? Right, cop being pulled over in another town._ He shook his head, and took a swig of his trusty pocket flask.

   The streets were empty as he expected. The strange thing was the complete lack of vehicles on the road. _I guess I should have expected no taxis. No stores are open either. It's not Sunday. Oh well_ , he thought. He kept navigating the storm towards the local strip bar; The Heaven's Night. He stopped under some shelter to read his notes:  
                   

**_-Rose Verna_ **

**_-Waitress and dancer at the Heaven's Night_ **

**_-Tia Russo_ **

**_-Dancer at the Heaven's Night_ **

**_-Rene Waters_ **

**_-Sex worker?_ **

**_-Sarah_ **

 

 

Walter cringed, closing it before he had time to read his abridged case details. He'd seen enough during that night. Maybe he could glean some clues from this establishment. So far, each victim lived within Silent Hill. With the exception of one. _No no no. Don't think about it._ The neon lights of the bar snapped him out of his thoughts. Everywhere had been closed. What were the odds that this place was open?

The steps were rather slippery from the downpour. Clinging to the railing did nothing to assist his ascent. Walter pushed open the door to the light sounds of a dance beat. The place was deserted, but every neon tube was bright with life. His brow raised as he searched the back room for anyone. Nothing. _Guess drinks are on the house tonight._ He slyly moved behind the counter, and poured himself a scotch. A sip did not give the satisfaction he desired. The burn of his throat caused a violent cough. “This is trash!” A view inside of the bottle revealed a dead cockroach within. With a shocked expression he set the drink down before walking away. The sound of the music became louder, and the light focused on the stage.

It was a slow entrance for a scantily clad bombshell. A childhood friend took the stage to deliver her best performance. Walter was left speechless as he took a seat to keep from falling. Her luscious curves left his eyes in a trance. Her every feature could be described as different flavors of delicious chocolate; indulgent dark hair, milk cocoa eyes, and amaretto tan skin. “No... this can't be real.”

She seductively slide from stage, and sashayed up close to him. “I'm as real as that drink in your pocket, Wally.” The beauty circled behind him, and slinked her arms around his shoulders. The detective looked mortified. 

“Ha ha. _Speechless_? I can have that effect on people.” She trailed a kiss or two on his neck before letting go of his chest. 

Walter didn't know what to make of this situation. How does one talk to a dead person? Especially if they don't think they're dead. He certainly wasn't blackout drunk, and this wasn't a dream.

“You need to lay off the drinks for a while, Wally. How 'bout you come back tomorrow?” She trailed a finger from his neck to just on his chin as she started to walk away. Walter tried to stand up to follow her. His legs wouldn't carry him. He withdrew his flask for another sip. _Alright... I should go_. This is fucking weird.

The door was open when he turned towards the exit. No one had entered or left. Walt tried to collect himself before he left for the street. The fog was still in full effect, but the rain had calmed enough to see a good ten feet in front of him. Someone was slowly walking away. A hunched over figure that clung to the shadows. _Are those hands dragging across the ground- what the fuck?_ He descended the stairs into the ally. There was a pile of trash by the stairs. _That wasn't there before... are those legs?_  Walter grimaced. Did he just see the perp? Did he just let the perp walk away? What the fuck was the perp? A lot of question with little answers.

The detective ran for the street, but soon realized that the perp was gone. There was nowhere he could have gone. No sounds of feet clapping on pavement. No person in the distance. He could take any of the streets to find him, but to no avail without a clue as to which one. Walter turned back to what he presumed was a body. It looked like hell. Bruises on the legs left him without a question of what had happened. “Looks just like the other ones,” he said to himself in a depressed tone. Using his flashlight like a stick, he attempted to pry the bag open. The plastic resisted his attempts to peer inside. Applying more force caused both legs to twitch. It didn't concern him as much, but it probably should have; one of the legs swept up at his face.

The force of the kick mixed with shock left Walter on the concrete. He put a hand to his chin with a gasp. He was disoriented by the blow, but made an effort to lift his head. All he could see was a pair of legs crawling towards him. The sound of plastic and flesh scraping across the ground sent shivers down his spine. His fear caused him kick wildly at the moving bag. It was little deterrent to whatever it was.

Walter found himself shuffling out of the alley way. That creature was hot on his heels as he tried to leap from the ground. A strong foot slammed down on the back of his heel; it stalled his progress to say the least. His hands scrambled across the road to pull him away from the monstrous legs. Every grope of asphalt propelled him further away. He turned to watch it from the other side of the street. It wriggled and twitched in place. One leg casually lifted to feel around the air in front of it. It left a crimson trail as it scurried in another direction.

Few things in life could explain what Walter had just seen. That thing was dead; suddenly it was full of energy.

Disturbing to his eyes, and tormenting to his brain. He took a few deep breaths before starting to walk. It was left there by someone. He intended to find the- well, murderer didn't seem to fit anymore if it made that. Walter was left frozen in the street by more scraping noises. Some were in unison, and others were directly opposed. A glance into the fog only shown outlines shuffling around.


End file.
